by Nicole Casey
“On Thanksgiving?” mom demanded as if I had uttered some blasphemous statement. “Doesn’t she have a family?”
“Not anymore!” Maya interjected wickedly. “She’s divorced!”
Mom gave her a baleful look, but I swallowed a smile at my sister’s off-color joke.
“She is a he,” I began. “And he is a very important figure who likely doesn’t stop for Thanksgiving.”
I said it meaningfully, but the implication was lost on everyone.
I guess they don’t equate me with an important figure, I thought dryly.
My mom and sister eyed me, waiting for me to elaborate but I felt disloyal saying more.
Not that the Sterling divorce was being kept low profile.
On the contrary.
Angeline Sterling had decided to make the battle as public and messy as possible.
All major media had been notified and the press could not get enough of the celebrity split.
“You’re handling Ryerson Sterling, aren’t you?” Slade piped up from the couch and I whipped my head around to look at him.
“You know about this, then?”
He chuckled and shrugged.
“I would have to be living under a rock not to know,” he replied.
Instantly he looked up apologetically.
“No offense.”
There was a polite chuckle, but all eyes were on me as they waited for a response.
Reluctantly, I nodded.
“I am,” I said slowly. “It’s only been a couple weeks though.”
“And already media circus,” Slade volunteered.
I wished he would stop talking.
“Well he is a media mogul,” I replied lightly. “It would be hard for him to escape it.”
“What is he like?” Maya asked, her green eyes brightening. “I bet he’s larger than life.”
I stared at her for a long moment, thinking of ways to explain my client to her.
He was larger than life but not in a boisterous or aggressive way.
There was a confidence about him which he managed without arrogance or pretentiousness and I was grateful that I had him and not his wretched wife.
He seemed taken aback by the divorce, but he was willing to fight just as hard as Angeline to keep what was his.
“He’s a good guy,” I said simply. “And he doesn’t deserve to lose half his life to that woman.”
“That woman?” Vyolet and my mom chorused in unison. They stared at me in disbelief.
“What?” I demanded. “She’s awful!”
“That is his wife!” mom growled. “She has invested as much into their lives as he has. She is entitled to just as much, if not more for her part in the marriage.”
I snorted.
“You wouldn’t say that if you met her. She’s a horrible person. She basically sprung the divorce on him without warning and is doing everything possible to make it as painful as possible for everyone involved. I mean if you want out of a marriage, fine but you don’t have to be cruel about it.”
“I don’t need to know her to know that a marriage takes two people to make it work. You only know one side of the story, Yvette. You can’t possibly make judgments based on whatever lies he’s feeding you,” mom insisted.
I almost choked.
“Lies? How can you make such a bold statement? You don’t know him either. Why are you defending her? Because you think she’s some desperate housewife who can’t defend herself?”
My mom’s mouth almost disappeared as she pressed her lips together.
I hadn’t meant it as a dig at her, but she apparently took it as one.
“I am defending the union. Are there children?”
“Mom, the Sterlings are in their sixties. Their children are grown.”
Her face grew red.
“The children are never too old to be affected by the trauma of a divorce!”
“Mom!” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. “I am a divorce lawyer. You have never been divorced. I would wager that I know a bit more on the subject than you do!”
“You have also never been married,” she answered shortly. “You can’t understand what’s involved. That’s why it is so easy for you to break up these relationships.”
The comment was not meant to be subtle and an uncomfortable silence ensued while I struggled to maintain my composure.
Again, this was not a topic which hadn’t been discussed a thousand times in the past but the fact that my mother was disappointed in my field of work was something I could not easily dismiss.
It was no secret that my mom wanted to see me married and practicing real estate law or something which did not offend her traditional value system.
“I do not break up marriages,” I hissed, gritting my teeth.
“Well his ex doesn’t know what she’s in for,” my dad laughed nervously, trying to alleviate the tension in the room. “I feel sorry for her attorney, but he wouldn’t be the first one to underestimate you, would he?”
I lowered my eyes, a slight pink tinge coloring my cheeks.
There was no need to tell them who Angeline’s counsel was.
I silently prayed that no one had investigated the Sterlings too much, but God never listened to me.
“Who is representing her?”
My head jerked up and I looked at Maya who seemed to be boring holes into me.
I hated that she could see right through me, even if she wasn’t sure what I was hiding.
“What difference does that make?” I asked curtly.
It was the wrong thing to say and even Alex stopped tinkering at the piano long enough to look at me with curiosity, her Bambi-like eyes unblinking.
Is it really hot in here?”
“Oh, it must be someone good!” Vyolet squealed, noting my discomfort. “Tell us!”
I shook my head and instantly missed the protection of my long locks against my face.
The bob did not allow for any hiding whatsoever.
“I read that they are both being represented by your firm, Yve,” Slade said, and it took every fiber of my being not to roar at him to shut his handsome trap.
“That can’t be right,” my dad said. “There’s some sort of legal conflict there, right sweetheart?”
I had nowhere to look but up and I glared hatefully at Slade who did not understand my malice.
“There is a loophole and the Sterlings have found it,” I sighed. “Draven Archer is representing Angeline Sterling.”
This time, the silence was longer, and it was almost unbearable before Evan spoke.
“Wasn’t your ex-fiancé named Draven?”
Until that moment, I had liked my sisters’ significant others but suddenly I wanted to murder them both in one fell swoop.
“That is her ex,” Vyolet gasped. “How is that going to work?”
“It’s working just fine,” I said shortly. “Anyway, can we drop this subject? It’s bordering on attorney-client privilege.”
“We’re not talking about the Sterlings, Yve,” Maya stated. “We’re asking about you and Draven. That can’t be good, pitting you against one another like that.”
I snorted.
“No one is pitting anyone against anyone. We are professionals. We know there is nothing personal in this.”
“It’s bad enough that you have to work together,” mom grumbled. “But now they’re doing this?”
“Mom, the firm has no idea that Draven and I dated when we were kids,” I growled. “If making mountains out of molehills was a career, you guys would corner the market, I swear.”
“You were more than dating!” mom screeched, and I wanted to kick myself for falling into the trap. “They should know about your history! It affects everyone!”
There was no arguing with her.
Even when she was wrong, she believed she was a hundred and fifty percent right.
I looked at my sisters for help but before they could speak, dad chimed in.
“We are
worried about you, sweetheart,” dad offered, giving me his warm smile. “But if you say you’ve got this under control, we support you, of course.”
“Is this subject closed then?” I asked, warily holding my breath.
“I’m going to check on the turkey,” my mother said abruptly, storming toward the kitchen.
Her feelings were hurt that she was being dismissed but I was glad to see her go.
We would kiss and make up later.
“I have to admit, it’s nice to see that she’s on you these days,” Maya chuckled, and I glared at her.
“Thanks for that.”
But I wasn’t really upset with mom or Slade or anyone.
Well, maybe a little bit with myself.
My mom’s words bothered me so much because they were true.
Things were not going well at work, the Sterlings causing a rash of buried memories to resurface.
Draven and I never saw one another in the mornings anymore, our coffee dates forsaken like they had never existed.
Whenever I ran into him at the office, he appeared to be busier than he actually was, and I marveled that after all those years, I still knew him as well as I did.
His body language and tells were still the same when he was nervous, and I could read him like a book whenever we crossed paths.
That’s good, I told myself grimly. It will serve me well in the settlement.
But I couldn’t dispute that I missed our bantering and some nights when my insomnia took hold, I would stare out into Pierce Creek and think about sending him a text to ask if we were still friends.
I suppose I never did because I suspected I already knew the answer.
You walked out on him six years ago, never expecting to see him again. The fact that we managed to overcome our history in the first place is a miracle. If this case ends up ruining our friendship, we never really got over our issues in the first place, I reasoned but it didn’t make me any less melancholy.
“Cheer up, Yve,” Maya said, grabbing my arm. “We won’t bring it up again. Well, I won’t anyway.”
I nodded and shifted my thoughts toward my family.
Two weeks ago I was upset that my family didn’t call on me anymore and now that I’m here with them, I’m mourning the loss of something I never had in the first place. It’s Thanksgiving. I should be thankful, not sulk.
“Anyway,” Maya whispered, leaning in. “You’re going to annihilate Draven in court. Make sure you bring a box of tissues for him.”
I met my sister’s blazing green eyes and I grinned, my shoulders relaxing slightly.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Yes, I am.”
7
Draven
“You going to this?”
I started and turned back to look at Brady, blinking quickly at the question.
“What?”
He pointed at the bulletin board and I focused my eyes on the paper dangling before me.
I hadn’t been paying attention, honestly and I couldn’t say for certain how long I had been standing in the breakroom with a coffee in my hand, but it was no longer warm to the touch.
“I wish it was in the Keys again this year,” Brady continued, and I finally reconciled that I was staring at a flyer for the annual retreat weekend.
“Yeah, the Keys would be nice,” I sighed. “I don’t know if I’m going.”
“Well, May is ways away,” Brady commented. “But you know the spots fill up pretty quick.”
“Even at a dude ranch?” I replied skeptically. “I’ll take my chances.”
Brady laughed and left me alone with my thoughts.
I watched him walk away and returned to what I had been considering as my coffee frosted in my hand.
She’s not going to like this but unfortunately, that is the way the game is played.
As if she felt me calling out to her, Yvette entered the break room.
“Oh,” she said, seeming surprised to see me standing there. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I replied quickly, taking a sip of my beverage.
I immediately wished I had not.
The bitter, cold liquid made me gag slightly.
Cautiously, as if she was afraid of scaring me off, she walked up to stand at my side.
I could not help but admire her svelte figure in a blue pencil skirt and white tailored blouse.
She was a classic beauty, stylish but subtle and she grew more beautiful with age.
“You going on the retreat?” she asked, and I found myself nodding.
“Thinking about it. You?”
She turned her eyes to me and I felt a familiar flutter in my heart as I looked at her.
“I already booked my spot.”
I nodded, swallowing my bizarre nervousness.
Why are you so apprehensive? This is business. It’s only business.
Her slight discomfort around me was apparent and I didn’t want to do anything to shake the fragile ease we seemed to share but it had to be said.
“Listen,” I started. “Angeline has an offer for Ryerson. When is a good time to get together?”
As if I had shocked her with a cattle prod, Yvette’s shoulders lifted tensely but she did not display her emotions on her face.
She thought we were being civil to one another for the first time in weeks and I ruined it by talking business.
“Why don’t you email me the details,” she said crisply, spinning on her heel toward the coffee machine. “And I’ll discuss them with my client.”
I winced at her tone, but I reminded myself that I didn’t need to walk on eggshells with Yvette.
Just because we have a history does not mean we can’t remain professional. If she was any other lawyer, we would still be joking around but she’s making this ugly for no reason.
But I knew our history made all the difference.
We had never discussed what had happened in New York, not with any great sincerity.
Both of us had more or less swept it under the rug as we so often did and pretended nothing happened.
This case had brought out something in us, something we weren’t prepared to face.
The realization that Angeline shared many similarities with Yvette had dredged up a lot of unsolicited reflection.
Angeline was hard and unflinching, just as Yvette appeared to be, with the brain to match my former lover’s.
Sometimes when I spoke with Angeline, I could see a glimmer of a hurt child beneath the surface, just as I would see her in Yvette.
But just like with Yvette, Angeline would block out any attempts I made to reach beyond her cool façade and talk to the wounded little girl inside.
“I’ll send it as soon as I get back to my desk,” I agreed, moving to join her at the coffee machine but as I neared her, she stepped away.
“Before you send off something ridiculous,” Yve called from the doorway. “Let me remind you that Mr. Sterling is a very busy man who doesn’t have time for trivial meetings. If your client wants to drag out this dog and pony show, that’s fine but know that Mr. Sterling will be billing her for wasted hours.”
I gaped at her, a laugh escaping my lips at the ridiculousness of the statement.
“He can’t do that!” I giggled. “It’s part of the proceedings. He doesn’t get paid for attending his own divorce mediations.”
“Oh no?” she replied, and I bristled at her tone.
“No!” I snapped. “Of course not!”
She leered at me.
“Tell that to Caitlyn Crawley, Roger Millstrom, and Eric Shumacker.”
I stared at her blankly.
“Who?” I demanded. “What are you talking about?”
“Those are divorced men and women who have paid handsomely for wasting my clients’ time. They, along with others who I can’t name off the top of my head, have all been billed for punitive damages and lost wages associated with wasting the courts and our time. Inform Mrs. Sterling that it is in her best interest to make this go away quickly and qui
etly.”
Yvette retreated from the breakroom and I felt myself grow warm with anger.
She can’t be serious, I fumed, pouring another cup of acrid, old coffee from the pot. I have to look into that!
But something told me that she wasn’t lying.
Yvette is many things, but a liar is not one of them. If she says she collected on such a stupid idea, she likely did.
The knowledge made me furious.
Yvette was not going to pull any punches. It only made me more determined to win the case for Angeline.
I hurried back to my office and set my cup down on the desk.
There was no way that Ryerson Sterling was going to agree to the number we had developed.
I had tried to reason with Angeline but there was no point.
She was, if possible, more stubborn than Yvette.
If I went to her with the message which Yvette had just given me, there was no doubt that all hell would break loose but if I presented Yvette with the offer, I would be dealing with an entire other earful.
I had an obligation to tell Angeline that she was going to be penalized for drawing out the process, but I wasn’t sure I had the energy for it that day.
I found myself cursing Vern Harrison every day for allowing this to happen.
The senior partner could have found a way out of it for everyone, but the firm only saw dollar signs.
When this is all over and done with, I am taking a vacation.
I sighed and turned to my email, sending the proposal to Yvette, interoffice.
Vern poked his head through my slightly ajar doorway.
“How’s it going?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes.
“You want the real answer or the PC one?”
“Sterling?” he asked, and I peered at him.
“Mostly,” I replied slowly. “What’s up?”
He remained in the doorway and I felt my ulcer moan as my subconscious sensed more trouble brewing.
“I just wanted to make a friendly suggestion,” Vern said slowly, and my eyes narrowed.
Beware the partner offering friendly suggestions as they are more likely direct orders.
“And that is?”
“Yvette is very good at her job. She has been here a few months longer than you, but she has a natural shark’s ability to smell blood in the water. I would bow down to her demands.”
